


a hazy shade of winter

by Fibreoptics



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fear of Heights, Fluff, Skiing, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5712913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fibreoptics/pseuds/Fibreoptics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting stuck 30 feet above the ground next to the man you’re trying to avoid is admittedly not an ideal situation, especially if you’re afraid of heights. Or, Clarke tries to ignore her feelings, but the ski fields (and Bellamy) won’t let her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a hazy shade of winter

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Simon and Garfunkel

So really, the situation was less than ideal to start with. Clarke mustn’t have been as inconspicuous as she believed the night before as she snuck out from Bellamy’s room after the impulsive decision to jump his bones. Octavia clearly knew something was up, and also clearly _loved_ placing Clarke in awkward situations, as she pushed her forward to the loading line of the Mount Weather chairlift, a double chairlift, with none other than Bellamy Blake next to her.

‘The loveseat,’ the Mount Weather chairlift was known as.

As Clarke was swept up by the lift, she became distinctly aware of Bellamy’s presence next to her. Memories of the night before began to reappear. It had started with the gluhwein. Well, really it had started a long while before that, months before, when Clarke had noticed a fluttering of affection while arguing with the objectively attractive brother of her college roommate. But Clarke wasn’t good with actual feelings, so she was going to blame the alcohol.

Besides, there was also an open fireplace and snow and hot chocolate and marshmallows and arguing and laughing and staring and biting of lips and romantic lighting, so really, Clarke had no choice but to make out with Bellamy. 

And once she had tasted the exquisite mix of gluhwein, hot chocolate and _him_ , and felt his taut muscles through his geeky winter jumper, Clarke just couldn’t resist taking it up to his bedroom.

But as the realisation of what had actually happened entered Clarke’s brain through the haze of her post coital bliss, she freaked. These were feelings she was supposed to be suppressing, not giving in to. Love and relationships, in Clarke’s experience, had only led to pain, and she’d be damned if she put herself through that again. So she left the room as Bellamy dozed off, without stopping to discuss the implications of what they’d done. 

And now she was stuck with him next to her for the next 10-minute chairlift ride, which was going to be an unpleasant experience for her anyway due to her fear of heights. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Bellamy said suddenly and gruffly.

“No I haven’t,” Clarke lied. Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her rapid response.

“Griffin, I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying,” Bellamy commented firmly. “We need to talk about last night.” 

Suddenly, the chair jerked forward as the cable above stopped pulling the two of them along.

“Fucking Raven,” Clarke cursed under her breath at the sudden halt of the chairlift. She knew she shouldn’t have trusted Raven when the mechanic told her with a wink, ‘Make sure you don’t miss out on the Mount Weather chairlift, I may have made some adjustments. A bit of tweaking to make it go faster. You know, that sort of stuff.’ While the lift was indeed faster, the new motor had also, apparently, malfunctioned.

And now Clarke was stuck 30 feet in the air, terrified of heights, with no imminent end to the chairlift ride. 

With a look downwards, Clarke’s stomach tightened. It seemed like a million miles down to the white snow below, which wasn’t even soft powder to break a fall, but hard, glacial ice. She felt her pulse begin to race, and a familiar feeling of terror begin to cloud her mind.

“Clarke, you can’t avoid it forever. We’re both up here for another two weeks and I refuse to let you to keep pretending that I am completely indifferent to you!”

“Look, I really can’t talk about this right now,” Clarke replied, her thoughts muddled by fear.

“Why? Because accepting that you might actually have feelings towards me is too difficult? I am that repulsive? Is it really such an inconceivable situation?” Bellamy demanded, his annoyance rising.

Clarke groaned in reply, “No! It’s not that,” but was unable to further articulate her thoughts after a quick glance down to the valley below her. Her stomach again twisted, her breathing rate becoming faster and more shallow. She tightly shut her eyes in an attempt to calm her nerves.

“Really? Because your face is telling me that you’d rather be anywhere but here, having this conversation, you can’t even keep your eyes open” he retorted angrily. “Fuck, Clarke. If you don’t want this to go anywhere, I can deal with it. But, please, just tell me!”

The crisp air filled Clarke’s lungs as she took a breath, and the sensation refreshed her brain for long enough to let out a quiet whisper. “It’s just… The height… I really don’t like heights.”

Bellamy’s face scrunched in confusion. “What? The height? What are you –– oh. Ohh…” he continued, his voice softening with understanding. “Shit, I didn’t realise. Sorry.”

In the silence that followed, Clarke tried to listen to the sounds of the ski resort surrounding her. The wind flowing through the branches of the trees, the scraping of the edge of skis against the harder packed snow, the quiet buzz of the T-bar running parallel to the now temporarily defunct chairlift. She began to slow her breathing to an acceptable rate, telling herself that she was safe and tuning in to the world around her.

The break in the conversation began to seem interminable, so with a small amount of newfound composition, Clarke attempted to string enough words together to form a sentence. However, there was little chance of actually being able to express her true feelings. Not while hanging 30 feet in the air from what was little more that a plastic park bench.

“I –“ Clarke began, but Bellamy interrupted before she could continue.

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I was being a dick. Some tell me I’ve made a habit of it.”

This made Clarke release a small, choked laugh. Her eyes were still tightly shut, so she couldn’t see his expression. But in his voice that she had come to know so well, the remorse was evident.

“I guess… Well, you confuse me. Fuck, you make me feel out of control,” Bellamy restarted. This admission left Clarke surprised. If there was anything Bellamy hated more than the fact that his sister had hooked up with a hulking, tattooed snowboarder the same age as him, it was feeling out of control. But there was a small twinge of relief as well, knowing that it wasn’t only her who was struggling to understand what they were feeling.

“My therapist told me that when something starts to fuck with my head, to break the issue up into small parts and deal with it from there.” Bellamy’s voice had transitioned from deep, husky and frustrated, to a calmer tone.

Octavia had spoken to Clarke about Bellamy when he was younger, had described him as an explosive ball of passion, anger, chaos and rebellion (which quite frankly reminded Clarke strongly of Octavia herself). He had found himself in trouble on numerous occasions, apparently, and was eventually sent to the university counsellor after an unpleasant encounter on campus with one of Octavia’s flings which had resulted in two black eyes, bruised knuckles, a blood nose and a month’s worth of silent treatment from his sister. It must have been of some help, because Bellamy’s passion was now mostly channelled towards positive outlets such as his honours degree in ancient cultures.

Or the bedroom, as Clarke had discovered yesterday.

With Clarke’s breathing having calmed and the tension of the conversation slowly dissolving, she found herself being able to concentrate on the situation at hand more effectively.

Bellamy clearly noticed the small change in Clarke’s disposition, and continued with a soft voice. “I guess that’s what I’m going to try with this. Break it up. Maybe it will help us both. My mess of a life could distract you from the height, too.”

Clarke is able to nod slightly in response. Encouraged by her reaction, Bellamy continued. 

“Okay. So last night happened. And it was… Well, it was great.”

A small smile erupted on Clarke’s face. Great, quite frankly, was an understatement. People in the past had labelled their verbal duels as formidable and unparalleled. But their heated discussions had nothing on the ferocity of their horizontal activities. 

“But there’s more to it, isn’t there? More than just a physical connection?” Bellamy questioned. Another small nod from Clarke. Bellamy let out a sigh of relief.

“Do you think maybe you’re reluctant to admit it because of how things ended with Finn and Lexa?” Again, this prompted a hesitant nod from Clarke. “This… Whatever this is, it scares me too. It was just me and O for so long, and then O found Lincoln, and then it was just me. But you came along and I… I actually started to care.” Bellamy’s voice began to become more restricted, like it was taking a concerted effort to vocalise what he was feeling.

“I care what you think about me, and it’s fucking terrifying because I know am a shitty person but you make me want to be better.” Clarke’s stomach again twisted, but this time in reaction to Bellamy’s words rather than the terrifying possibility of the fall below her. She opened her eyes, feeling strong enough to focus on the warm presence next to her rather than her deep-seated fear of heights.

The self-loathing evident on Bellamy’s face compelled Clarke to speak. Suddenly it didn’t matter that she was 30 feet in the air, just that somebody she cared about was feeling so conflicted. “You’re not.”

“What?” Bellamy turned his gaze towards her and their eyes met. Clarke studied the handsome face framed by a ski helmet, a smattering of freckles accentuated by a ski goggle tan and eyebrows perched in a questioning expression. Just as she was about to give in to the urge to reach out and tuck a stray curl away from his eye, their chair lurched as the familiar buzz of the motor of the ski lift began again.

“Oh thank fuck!” Clarke exclaimed, and let out a deep breath of relief. “Raven took her damn time!” Spurred on by the imminent end of the horrible chairlift ride, Clarke found her voice again, maintaining her gaze on Bellamy. “You’re not a shitty person. In fact, by most measurements, the majority of time you’re a pretty good person.” Bellamy chose this point to look down and bite his lip, as if unable to accept what Clarke was saying. “And if you continue constantly with this self loathing bullshit while I’m dating you, then I don’t know how long we’ll last.” At this last comment, Bellamy glances up again, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Really? You’re willing to give us a shot?" 

“Well like you said, let’s break it down. It’s a bit easier for me now that we’ll soon be on solid ground,” Clarke grinned. “I like you. You like me. And if I get past all my previous, crappy experiences, I can see we could be good together.” With each phrase, Clarke leant closer to Bellamy, until the top of her helmet softly tapped on his and she could feel the warmth of their breaths mingling. Then, huskily, she whispered, “Well, after last night, I _know_ we could be good together.” 

With that, Bellamy closed the remaining gap until his lips were on hers, cold and chapped from the fresh winters air, creating a unique sensation of cool and warm as Bellamy slowly opened his mouth to Clarke’s tongue, emulating the boozy confidence of the night before’s embraces. Bellamy broke away from the kiss more quickly than Clarke had hoped, but she realised that the chairlift had come to an end, and she was _finally_ going to be on solid ground.

Clarke skied away from the chairlift with Bellamy right next to her, giddy from both the adrenaline rush of her phobia and being thoroughly kissed. She stopped a short distance after, with Bellamy following and spraying her legs with snow as he hockey stopped. 

Bellamy then leant down so that Clarke could feel his warm breath on her ear. Huskily and seductively Bellamy muttered, “Oh, Princess, I haven’t even shown you the start of how _incredible_ we’re going to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for The 100, and my first written for a while. The tone is soooo off and patchy is places, and I'll just be happy if anyone makes it through it all! So I'm sure there will be gaping holes in it, but I hope that there are some of you out there who enjoy reading it :)
> 
> Also, come join me on tumblr, if you feel like it ;) http://clarkeswalkabout.tumblr.com/


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